


Crossing the Acheron

by nekosmuse_archive (nekosmuse)



Category: Without a Trace
Genre: Grief/Mourning, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:41:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23601730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekosmuse/pseuds/nekosmuse_archive
Summary: Written pre 2005. Posting for archival purposes.Martin's having trouble dealing with his father's death.
Relationships: Martin Fitzgerald/Danny Taylor
Kudos: 4





	Crossing the Acheron

_Do you want me to come with you?_

_No, Danny._

Now he almost wishes he'd agreed. Almost but not quite because this is still his burden and he doesn't want Danny shouldering it.

The gates don't seem quite real and he's reminded of another time; an image he's seen in photographs but never experienced. Colours are muted, bleeding into overcast sky and he feels like he's stepped inside a black and white movie. Everything was so clear yesterday. Strange the way that works; rain distorting vision and clouding memory.

His footsteps seem heavy, tired and he fights against the urge to stop. Wants to stop but he's almost there and he needs to do this alone, without the backdrop of teary eyes and stone carved faces.

And he feels alone, more so than he has in years. More so than he did even when he first moved to the city. Still remembers long nights hunched over his desk, working away the hours because they wouldn't pass quickly enough on their own. Staring at a new ceiling and feeling the draft seeping past cracked windowpanes. His imagination most likely, the windows were new.

So much changed for him after he met Danny. Changed and yet stayed the same because he kept it hidden. And his father died never knowing.

The gravel is loose beneath his feet, worn away by hundreds of shoes and he hadn't expected so many people to turn out. Should have known, suspected at least, his father had more connections than most. So many he hadn't even been able to bring himself to say goodbye.

And maybe that's why he's here.

Or maybe it's because there are things he needs to say. Things he wants to say without an audience. Not even Danny.

His knees protest kneeling and it strikes him that he's aged. Can't quite remember when it happened but the evidence is there. Joints stiff with weather and he feels time pressing against his shoulders. Thinks maybe the burden is as old as he is.

The stone is darker than he remembers, smoother but he knows it hasn't had time to wear. Thinks maybe it's his eyes, hazy already and that he can pass off as tears.

"You didn't know me," he whispers, his voice carrying through the surrounding silence.

~*~

The key is heavy in his hand, so much so he almost drops it. Manages to slide it into the lock with shaking hands and then he's inside. False warmth and brightness and he can hear the shower running. Contemplates joining Danny but knows where that will lead.

Moves to the kitchen instead, dropping keys on the counter and wishing their cupboards were stocked with liquor. Not that it would help, but he's cold and wet and longs for something to ease the chill. Settles on coffee, freshly brewed and Danny must have made it before starting his shower.

Strong and black and now he's sitting, pouring over the week's mail and he still doesn't know what to do with himself on a Saturday. Danny makes plans, drags him places he would never go on his own. Wonders if Danny's made plans for today. Doubts it.

He's on the phone bill when the shower stops. Listens to Danny rustling in the bathroom. Knows exactly what he's doing. Shaving, fixing hair, brushing teeth and he never pictured Danny as predictable but in all the time he's known him, Danny's never once altered his morning routine. Smiles at that, the smile fading as he cuts his thumb on the letter opener.

Tiny drop of blood, staining the envelope in smeared scarlet. Brings his thumb to his lips, tasting metallic and sucking hard. Stinging pain that makes him feel alive and now he wants Danny to fuck him. Hard, but he knows the hollowness that will follow. Doesn't think he can handle that this morning.

"You're back?"

Danny exits the bathroom wearing only a towel, wrapped around his hips and Martin follows the line of hair trailing just below his abdomen.

"Just got back," Martin replies, glancing at his cut and letting blood pool against his skin.

"You cut yourself?" Danny asks and he's closing the distance between them.

"It's nothing, just a paper cut," Martin lies, washing his mouth out with a sip of coffee.

Danny nods, crossing into the kitchen and pouring his own cup. Returns to Martin's side moments later and slides into the unoccupied chair.

"We're out of milk, we should probably do some grocery shopping today," Danny comments, watching Martin over the rim of his cup.

"Would you mind going on your own? I don't really feel like doing anything today," Martin asks, moving on to the cable bill.

Danny nods, smiling in frustrated understanding and Martin swallows a wave of guilt with the rest of his coffee. Knows he's being unfair; shutting down and it's driving Danny insane. The problem is, Danny wouldn't understand.

Couldn't possibly understand because his parents never lived long enough to know Danny the man. Wonders if they would have approved. If Danny would have told them. Wonders if Danny would even be sitting here. Too many thoughts for morning and he feels like his head is going to explode. Shudders before pushing aside the mail, standing and taking his cup to the sink.

"We should get a dishwasher," he comments absently, rinsing his cup and setting it aside.

"Where would we put it?" Danny asks, smirking now and surveying the too small kitchen.

"We could move," Martin replies, forcing a smile.

"And give up rent control?" Danny teases and Martin no longer has the energy to respond.

"It was just a thought," Martin says before moving to the living room. Sinks into the overstuffed couch Danny insisted on buying, his mood shifting once again.

"I'm going to go get dressed, you need anything?" Danny asks and Martin swallows the urge to tell him to fuck off.

Knows it's not Danny's fault. Knows Danny's only trying to help but Martin doesn't need help. Doesn't need anything but silence and a second chance. A chance he's never going to get and now he has to live with all the times he held his tongue.

Thinks maybe he should tell Danny, but they've fought about it too many times in the past and now it's too late.

Reconsiders the need for silence when Danny leaves, disappearing into the bedroom and now he's alone with his thoughts. Turns on the television to drown them out, settling on a documentary and closing his eyes.

~*~

The apartment's empty when he wakes and for a moment he forgets what day it is. It comes back to him in a rush, yesterday's funeral, today's graveside confession. Outside clouds give way to sun, harsh light filtering through the window and he blinks away the sudden spots forming in front of his eyes. Stands and moves to the blinds, pulling them shut and blocking out the world.

There's a note on the kitchen counter, Danny's sprawling handwriting easily recognized. He doesn't read it; knows what it says. Finds himself standing midway between the fridge and the sink as the front door opens, Danny gliding inside, brown paper bags spilling over his arms.

"Need a hand?" he asks, already crossing the room to take two of the bags.

"Thanks, apparently we were out of a lot of things," Danny comments, kicking the door shut and following Martin into the kitchen.

"I don't know why we bother, it's not like we're ever here," Martin responds, frowning at Danny's choice of breakfast cereal.

"Yes, but when we are here, we need to eat," Danny replies with a smirk.

"Ah yes, nothing like a steady diet of Fruit Loops and…Pop Tarts?" Martin scoffs.

"Figured you could use some comfort food," Danny explains, dropping his bags and snatching the offending item from Martin's hand.

"Right, thanks," Martin says dryly, rolling his eyes and placing the milk in the fridge.

He's not really mad at Danny, just tired and irritable and Danny's there. Thinks maybe he should make more of an effort but knows Danny understands. Watches Danny kneel to put away the dish soap, lean muscles flexing under his shirt and maybe Martin does want comfort. Just not the kind that comes in brightly coloured packages, so filled with sugar his teeth twitch.

"This can wait," Martin states, almost orders, and he's crossing the room to grasp Danny's arm.

Danny looks at him quizzically, taking the hint and turning into Martin's body. Stepping forward until there's nothing between them but heat and tension.

"What, putting away groceries gets you hot?" he quips, smirking in invitation and Martin doesn't respond.

Surges forward and kisses away Danny's smile. Small rush of triumph at taking Danny by surprise. Shakes his head against Danny's attempt to lead them to the bedroom, pushing Danny hard against the counter until he takes the hint and relaxes. They've never fucked in the kitchen before.

Surprising considering how long they've been in the place. Haven't done it on the fire escape either and Martin makes a mental note for next time.

Smiles at the thought, grasping Danny's hips, pulling him flush and just grinding. Sharp thrill of sensation running up his spine and he does it again. And Danny's moaning now, thrusting forward with eyes closed and it's just about the hottest thing Martin's ever seen.

Could be hotter and he leans forward, running his tongue along the outside of Danny's ear, pausing to breathe before speaking.

"Open your eyes."

When he pulls away Danny's watching him, pupils dilated and sparkling with such intensity new arousal pools in Martin's groin. Shudders at the sight, reaching forward and pulling on Danny's belt until it just releases. Zipper next and he lets his fingers trail behind, rubbing against Danny until his head falls back, eyes still open.

Arched neck so inviting he can't stop himself from leaning forward, tongue darting out to taste. Traces a path down, pausing to nip at the space just before Danny's collar. Hands tugging at Danny's shirt until he lifts his arms, letting Martin slide the fabric over Danny's head and giving him new skin to explore.

Soft skin that tastes of sweat and salt and something purely Danny. Can't get enough and he wants to consume Danny whole. Ends on taunt stomach, lavishing his tongue over Danny's scar and now Danny's panting. Tugs on jeans until the fall past Danny's knees. Boxers next and he stops Danny from stepping out of them. Traps him there, ass against the counter and that will come in handy later.

Now all he wants is the feel of Danny in his mouth. The weight of him against his tongue so he drops to his knees, leaning forward and nuzzling Danny's leg. Kisses a path over thigh, pushing past balls with his nose and just breathing. Inhaling Danny's scent and God, he doesn't think he'll ever get enough of this. Wants it in a way that frightens him and who the hell cares what he father would have thought.

Not going to think about that now, doesn't want to think about it ever. Not with Danny bare and needy before him. Not with Danny's hands sliding into his hair, pulling forward and Martin doesn't even bother protesting.

Just leans in and takes Danny, tongue swirling over Danny's head until his hands clench. Sensation almost painful and at this rate he's surprise he isn't bald. Ignores it, along with the his own need. Concentrates instead on the right pressure, the right pace until Danny's making that noise that tells Martin he's close.

Hand comes up to cup balls, fingers brushing past to stroke the sensitive spot just behind and now Danny's babbling. Chuckles at that, throat vibrating and he feels Danny tense. Replaces finger with thumb and presses down hard. Small circles and he knows Danny's shut his eyes.

Doesn't even mind, not with Danny arching forward, sputtering on Martin's tongue and trembling until Martin's forced to hold his hips steady. Doesn't pull away until Danny mews, contentment in his tone and Martin smiles around his length before pulling back, licking his lips and kissing his way back up Danny's chest.

Pauses at the hollow of Danny's neck, catching a bead of sweat with his tongue before finally pulling away. Danny's eyes are open now, watching him with a mixture of affection and lust. Smiles before leaning forward, pressing their lips together and letting Danny taste himself on Martin's tongue.

Not enough and now he's pulling, lifting until Danny's perched on the counter. Nudges knees apart and now Danny's spread before him, still slick cock rubbing against Martin's stomach. Shivers a little at the sight, so open, so trusting and he still doesn't know what he did to deserve this.

Doesn’t question it, can't even form the question because Danny's pulling away, spitting into his hand and reaching down to run wet fingers along Martin's length. Martin groans at that, thrusting into Danny's hand and he could come from just this.

Wants more so he forces Danny's hand away, pulling his legs forward until he's lined up and just slides inside. Tight heat and now his eyes are closed. Head thrown back and Danny's shifting beneath him, pulling him deeper than he can ever remember being.

"God."

Takes a moment to catch his breath before moving. Slow, steady strokes and it's still going to be over too soon. Can't really care at this point, not with Danny's hands in his hair. Not with Danny writhing beneath him, arching up on meeting him thrust for thrust.

Slow turns to frantic, fast and uncoordinated and he doesn't care that he's slamming Danny against the counter and the dishes are rattling. Half surprised they don't break and doesn't even think he'd care if they did.

Images flash behind his eyes and he doesn't remember closing them. Water and coins and his father's disapproving smile. Wills them away, focusing instead on the clenching of Danny's muscles. Almost a rhythm and soon sensation overwhelms memory. Pulls at him until he's coming hard, arching forward and gripping Danny's hips like they're the only think keeping him standing.

~*~

Danny's sprawled across the couch when he finishes his shower. Feet propped on the coffee table and remote in hand. He doesn't say anything, crossing the room and sinking into the only available chair.

"Thought maybe you'd drowned," Danny comments, muting the television and smiling softly.

He doesn't remember his shower lasting that long, except the water had felt good, cleansing in a way he needed and he remembers not wanting to leave. Remembers only turning it off when the water became tepid.

"I don't think it's possible to drown in the shower," he replies, settling his own feet across from Danny's, toes touching.

"I'm sure it's possible. You feeling any better?" Danny asks and Martin frowns.

He doesn't want to have this conversation. A conversation Danny's been trying to start for over a week. Ever since he got the late night phone call from his mother. Ever since he'd spent the remainder of the evening sitting in a hospital waiting room. Ever since he'd told Danny he couldn't come with him to Washington.

"I'm fine," he answers, hoping Danny will take the hint and just let it go.

"Right," Danny responds and Martin can tell he's not buying it. Can tell he's just waiting for some inevitable break down because that's how he's supposed to react.

Doesn't think Danny quite understands his relationship with Victor. Can't even call him his father because they were strangers, in every sense of the word. And now Danny's waiting for him to, cry maybe, grieve, something other than walk around in stony silence regretting ever keeping his father at arms length.

"What?" he asks, shifting under Danny's carefully measured stare.

"You can't just bottle this stuff up Martin. I know you've got this whole weird, need to be in control thing going on, but trust me on this one," Danny tells him, placing his feet on the floor and leaning into the space between them.

"You would know," Martin retorts, pushing himself off the chair and moving into the kitchen.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Danny asks and Martin's fairly certain he knows exactly what it meant.

"Forget it," Martin replies and now he's pacing, restless and Danny's still staring at him.

Staring at him and it’s starting to get on Martin's nerves. Danny still doesn't get it and he's never going to and why he can't just leave well enough alone Martin doesn't know.

"Would you stop it already," Martin barks and something flashes in Danny's eyes.

"I'm not asking for you to wear black or even cry Martin. I just think you should talk about this," Danny answers. "He was your father."

"Yeah, that's right, my father, Danny, not yours. I don't need to talk about this and I certainly don't need advice from you."

And it was uncalled for, he's knows the comment hurt. Knows Danny didn't deserve it, but it doesn't stop him from grabbing his keys, moving to the door because he knows if he doesn't leave he's going to say something worse. Something that'll probably end their relationship.

"Where are you going?" Danny asks, following Martin to the door.

"I just need to clear my head," Martin tells him, not waiting for a response before slipping out the door, Danny's confused and hurt expression already committed to memory.

~*~

It's dark when he gets back, the apartment void of light. He doesn't need it, knows his way blindfolded so he toes off his shoes and makes his way to the bedroom.

He can just make out Danny's form, back to the door and a rigidness Martin's come to associate with angry Danny. Hurt Danny and his earlier words come rushing back to him in a flash of regret.

Undresses slowly before pulling aside the covers, sinking into the mattress and Danny tenses.

"You awake?" he says to the darkness, not expecting a response.

"No," Danny replies, and Martin sighs.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," Martin says, placing a tentative hand on Danny's shoulder.

"I know, me too," Danny replies, turning until they're facing one another and the pain in his eyes takes Martin's breath away. "I'm not going anywhere, Martin. And I know this isn't exactly the easiest thing to go through, but I'm here. Let me carry some of it."

"I never told him," Martin confesses, waiting for recognition to dawn in Danny's eyes before continuing. "He didn't know who I was and now I feel like my whole life has been a lie."

"He knew Martin, trust me, he knew," Danny tells him and Martin inches closer until there's nothing but Danny and warmth and a tangle of limbs.

"I know, but I never said it."

And Danny kisses him, soft and hesitant and Martin wants to crawl inside Danny's skin. "So say it now," Danny whispers, pulling away and cupping Martin's cheek.

"I love you."

And it's not enough but Danny's smiling, pulling him close and Martin thinks maybe it'll be all right.


End file.
